


when it rains, it blooms inside me

by jaepeels



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Fluff, Language of Flowers, Light Angst, M/M, Magic, Melancholy, Rain, Strangers to Friends to ???, Tea Shop AU of a sort, onghwang are husbands, panwink are soft for each other but what else is new, this is probably the softest fic i've ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-02 20:17:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17270432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaepeels/pseuds/jaepeels
Summary: he sees the younger fiddling with the rim of his mug in a thoughtful manner. “i, uh. i’m sorry about the storm, hyung.”that causes jihoon to chuckle. “why are apologizing about the weather? it’s not something that you can control unless—”oh.oh.“well.” guanlin laughs nervously. “it’s supposed to be something that i can control, but i realized that there are really some things that just can’t be helped.”(or: jihoon has always been weak for boys with stormy hearts and sun-filled smiles—especially when itʼs someone by the name of lai guanlin.)





	when it rains, it blooms inside me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [peoniels](https://archiveofourown.org/users/peoniels/gifts).



> hey, guys!! look who just came back from the war (against writer's block sldlasdj)  
>  ok, so.
> 
> 1\. this has been on my drafts since november and i've always wanted to write it and thank the holiday vacation that i got the chance to finally finish it!!  
> 2\. this is a gift for peoniels, who's always been the nicest and sweetest. we don't really talk much, but know that i always appreciate everything <33 i hope you like it!!  
> 3\. to the people who find comfort in the rain just as much as they want to be with the sun: this oneʼs also for you <3  
> 4\. this is unbeta'd, so let me know if there any typos or wrong grammars, etc.   
> 5\. enjoy!!  
> 

✿

 

 

 

 

 

 

>   
>    
>  _because i look at you…_
> 
> _and i see the light come through_

  
  
  


✿  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
it rains in the summer; the achromatic skies hiding away all the promises of the sun. gone are all the bright days like ships sinking in murky waters—along with a sun childʼs hopes trying to keep afloat, reaching for a warmth that seemed so far away.  
  
  
“it’s a bit odd,” jihoon muses aloud, as he stares at the sudden downpour on the streets beyond the tall glass window, raindrops after raindrops hitting the pavements, forming endless puddles that people avoid, hoping not to get drenched more than they already are. he came with a good mood this morning, with smile, but right now he feels gloomy as the sight outside the tea shop continues to fade into a world blotted by muted greys. “the weather forecast said that it’s gonna be sunny today.”  
  
  
“technology isn’t always accurate, young one,” seongwu, one of his bosses, says in that annoying knowing tone of his. he’s now adding a spoon of honey into a cup of hot lemon tea, the familiar fruity scent wafting through the air, somehow settling comfortably in jihoon’s bones. “maybe someone’s messing with the weather today.”  
  
  
jihoon sighs. that’s possible, knowing that some people aren’t exactly normal. after all, they live in a world where magic isn’t exactly rare nor it is common. jihoon is just one of the majority who doesnʼt belong to that population. “i don’t like the rain.”  
  
  
“i know.” seongwu chuckles, now offering the hot cup of tea that he made to jihoon. “here, have this. it’ll make you feel better.”  
  
  
jihoon accepts it without hesitance, his hands circling the cup, chasing the warmth through the glass surface. “thanks, hyung.”  
  
  
the spring breeze tea shop is warm and abuzz despite the steady rain outside. even though the shop is located in between big establishments, barely visible to the eyes of some passerby, there are still a couple of costumers inside, nursing their hot drinks and talking animatedly with bright expressions. spring breeze has always been known for its eccentricities, for its wooden interior accents, mismatched furnitures, and quirky decorations. thereʼs a bookshelf that takes up half a wall: souvenir snow globes that the owners got from their travels around the world on the topmost shelf, different kinds of paperback novels on the second and third, and stacks of old vinyl records collected throughout the years on the fourth and last shelf. the surrealism paintings and colorful photographs of the costumers plastered on the walls were from seongwu himself. some of their mugs are hand-painted by him, too. and if you look closely, you can find some random acrylic marker drawings on the furnitures, made by seongwuʼs gifted hand every time he has time to spare. jihoon thinks that the shop would be flooded with traces of seongwuʼs creativity by the time this year ends.  
  
  
aside from its quirkiness, the shop also hums with earth magic; different kinds of plants spilling from each corners and available spaces of the place. the flowers are fully efflorescent today, bursting in vibrant hues of reds, yellows, and oranges, as if itʼs still spring. minhyun, jihoonʼs other boss and seongwuʼs husband, grew them himself; his affinity for earth enabling the plants to blossom despite the harshest of weathers. his boss has a thing for growing wildflowers in the asphalt, you see. he sees the beauty in things that people tend to overlook and make them bloom into their utmost potential.  
  
  
the bell above the door chimes and jihoon looks up to see—as if on cue—his other boss come in, a couple of paper bags in hand. seongwu, whoʼs in the middle of cleaning the counter, leaves his duty and immediately rushes to his husband, kissing him on the cheek before helping him carry the bags with the biggest grin on his face. jihoon almost rolls his eyes.  
  
  
“i bought more tapioca,” minhyun announces, following seongwu on the way inside the work station and placing the bags on the counter.  
  
  
“perfect!” jihoon exclaims, helping his boss unload all the contents. minhyun also purchased some fresh strawberries, kiwis, peaches and lychee for the fruit teas. “we were almost running out. bubble tea isnʼt gonna be bubble tea if there arenʼt any bubbles.”  
  
  
“just admit that youʼre the one eating them,” seongwu says pointedly.  
  
  
jihoon smiles at him innocently, now reaching out for the pack of tapioca pearls and hugging it to his chest. “i enjoy chewing them, thank you very much.”  
  
  
“brat.” seongwuʼs face scrunches up as he attempts to steal the pack from jihoon, but to no avail. “youʼre not even denying it.”  
  
  
the bell chimes again and they all turn to see—  
  
  
_oh_ , jihoon thinks, a little bit breathless from what heʼs come to know as relief, _heʼs here_ .  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
✿  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
it was also raining when jihoon first saw him enter the tea shop, a little drenched from the rain, but still glowing brightly, as if the weather didnʼt bother him. tall, lean, and beautiful, made up of elegant features, all sharp edges and smooth lines—almost too unreal. he had that intimidating aura with him, but at the same time he looks really soft with his cream-colored cashmere sweater, fuzzy maroon scarf, and gold-rimmed glasses. he had a small smile on his face as he approached the cashier, bouncing a bit on his feet as he scrutinized the entirety of the tea shop.  
  
  
“good morning!” jihoon greeted enthusiastically, putting on a practiced smile. “what can i get for you, sir?”  
  
  
“uh.” the handsome costumer blinked up at the handwritten menu beside the cash register, his wide eyes shining. cute. “iʼll have a cup of hot earl grey tea, please.”  
  
  
“got it.” jihoon punched in his order, his hands surprisingly steady. “will that be all?”  
  
  
when he looked up, the costumer wasnʼt paying attention. instead, he was staring at a certain spot on the counter with an expression of bare wonder.  
  
  
“are these real?” he asked, pointing at the pot of purple lilacs beside the register. he looked as if he wanted to reach out for them.  
  
  
“oh.” jihoon was slightly taken aback by the costumerʼs sudden interest. “yes, they are.”  
  
  
“theyʼre really pretty,” he commented with a dimpled smile—which was just... really charming.  
  
  
“they are,” jihoon agreed softly, looking at the costumer the same way he looked at the flowers: a little bit enchanted, maybe even more.  
  
  
he had asked seongwu to draw little lilacs on the costumerʼs cup after that. his boss was a little bewildered at his sudden request, but happily did what he was told, humming a soft tune similar to what he sings every morning as he tends to the plants that his husband grew.  
  
  
seeing the boy smile at the sight of the flowers inked on his cup had done things to jihoonʼs poor heart.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
✿  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
he kept coming back after that, ordering the same drink and drinking from the same cup. he made a place at the corner overlooking the outside, sitting comfortably on a faux leather seat that is now peeling off with age, under the canopy of hanging greenery, as if he belonged there all along.  
  
  
it was an abrupt change of scenery, different from what jihoon was used to ever since he started working here, but he didnʼt really mind.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
✿  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
and heʼs here again, a beam of sunlight, amidst the rain with his dark raven hair, big golden-rimmed glasses, and gummy smile that is just warm warm warm and—  
  
  
heʼs now approaching the counter and jihoon is once again reminded that he has to interact with this wonderful boy again and his owners are being annoying with those smug smiles on their faces and he swears if heʼs currently not having such a crisis, he would really kill them—  
  
  
“hey.”  
  
  
jihoon smiles a startled smile, trying to calm down his fast-beating heart. “oh, hey! youʼre here again.”  
  
  
_oh, great. real professional, park jihoon._ _  
_  
  
“ah, yes.” the boy chuckles nervously, and the sound reminds jihoon of the ocean back home. “and iʼll have the usual, please.”  
  
  
“okay, got it.” jihoon punches in his order, which he already knows by heart, and musters another smile. “is that all? we have a weekend special today! itʼs blueberry cheesecake—the ownerʼs personal favorite. would you like to try it?”  
  
  
“oh.” he beams, his gummy smile so bright that rivals the sun. “that sounds good. iʼll have one, please.”  
  
  
“great choice!” seongwu chimes in from behind jihoon. “itʼs on the house. a friend of jihoonʼs is a friend of ours.” the wink that he sends in the boyʼs direction makes jihoon want to crawl in a hole and never go out again.  
  
  
“t-thank you.” the boy seems to be surprised with seongwuʼs sudden offer. “but i donʼt think—”  
  
  
“donʼt even think about it, okay?” seongwu grins at him. “just think of it as a gratitude for being such a loyal costumer. and for making the staff happy for your presence.”  
  
  
seongwu has failed to mention that the staff is just the three of them and the only one who is really happy right now is jihoon.  
  
  
oh.  
  
  
god, heʼs just so gone.  
  
  
“thank you.” the boyʼs wide eyes sparkle. it tags on jihoon’s heartstrings. “iʼll treasure the cake forever.”  
  
  
when the boy finally retreats to his usual place, seongwu turns to jihoon with a mischievous smirk on his face. “this is the day, jihoonie!”  
  
  
“this is the day of what?” jihoon grumbles, intentionally shoving past him as he starts looking for the tea jar that says _earl grey_ .  
  
  
“this is the day where you finally talk to him!” seongwu says, helping jihoon reach for the jar on the shelf thatʼs too high for him. “right, darling?”  
  
  
“heʼs right, jihoon,” minhyun agrees, a soft smile painting on his face as he gently touches the yellow orchids hanging by the door leading to the kitchen. “even the flowers are singing ballads today.”  
  
  
apart from the fact that he can grow plants, minhyun can also communicate with them. he greets them every morning when they open the shop and sing them lullabies during closing hours. sometimes, he tells them about his travels around the world with seongwu and they tell him stories of the costumers in return. and when seongwu is in a particular good mood, heʼs the one who tells them fairytales, complete with dramatic storytelling and exaggerated actions. minhyun once said that it made the plants really happy, even if seongwu canʼt exactly hear them.

 

(jihoon wonders if they also give advice on how to talk to a cute boy.)

  
“but how do i approach him?” jihoon asks in complete sincerity. he must be wearing a very sad expression because seongwu is giving him this look that says: _it’s okay to be scared_ and minhyun: _i understand what you feel_.

 

“just don’t overthink it!” seongwu advises, putting a gentle hand on jihoon’s shoulder and giving it a light squeeze in a form of reassurance. the thing about seongwu’s presence is that it’s always comfortable, like the warmth of fireplace during a particular unrelenting winter day. “or don’t think about it at all. just go up there and be yourself. live in the moment and don’t let your doubts stop you.”

 

jihoon laughs, now feeling a little bit lighter. “that’s the most rational advice you’ve ever given me.”

 

“hey!” seongwu gapes at him. “i give the best advice!”

 

“only on good days, darling,” minhyun says with a fond smile on his face.

 

seongwu reaches out to pinch his husband’s left cheek. “i would demand a divorce if you weren’t just looking at me like that.”

  
  
“gross,” jihoon comments, averting his attention from the couple. “you two should get a room.”  


  
  
  
  
✿

  
  
  
  
  
  
jihoon waits, waits until the boy finishes his drink before he gathers the courage to approach him, fresh cups of hot tea in both hands. the sound of the rain hitting the pavements outside matches the rhythm of his heartbeat— _thump, thump, thump_ , it goes—so loud and violent that he’s afraid that everyone will hear it. that they will hear how nervous he is, how scared he is to talk to this boy who has the stars in his eyes.

 

calm down, he tells his heart and his heart tells him no, stubbornly so.  
  
  
by the time he’s by the boy’s usual spot, he becomes more aware of his own presence. how awkward he is just standing there with no idea how to start talking to him, how gravity doesn’t seem to make sense when his feet just feels so heavy but at the same his body feels so so so light, like he can float in the air and disappear at any moment.

 

as if sensing him, the boy looks up—

 

_star eyes, so bright_

 

—and jihoon’s breath just betrays him, thinks that maybe it’s the best time to run away to where no one could find him. live in seclusion by the ocean, maybe. with lots of dogs by his side, would probably name one of them max, and—

 

the boy is looking at him with this curious tilt of his head, bright bright eyes behind big glasses peering at him in question, rosy lips partly open as if he wants to say or ask something, but is too surprised to even utter a single word.

 

(should jihoon say something, though? he really doesn’t know how this thing works. he really just wants to talk to this wonderful boy and maybe discover the mysteries of the universe in his eyes but—

 

first—)

 

“hey,” jihoon finally breathes out. it’s bizzare how a single word can cost a lot of energy. “mind if i join you?”

 

a pause. a beat. two beats. three beats. heartbeats.

 

and then—

 

“hey.” a smile. the world tilts on its axis. the stars align. “i don’t mind.”

 

“thanks.” jihoon cautiously takes a seat on a chair across him, placing the cups on the table. he mentally pats himself for not breaking them even though his hands are shaking so badly. “i brought you tea, by the way. my treat.”

 

“oh, thank you.” the boy looks down, his smile shy, his cute dimples visible. so, so pretty. “why do i get free things today? are there any special occasions or…?”

 

“not really,” jihoon replies, trying to sound nonchalant with his heart beating so fast against his ribcage. just the day that i finally got to talk to you, he wants to add, but thankfully doesn’t say any more. he really doesn’t want to mess this up so badly. “it’s just a good day, i guess?”

 

the boy looks at the downpour outside, at the world painted in monochrome, a grin on his face. when he speaks, his words are accompanied by a small chuckle. “even with this weather?”

 

“even with this weather,” jihoon says, now feeling a bit warm—

 

—even with this weather.

 

when the boy turns to look at him, jihoon is already staring at him, rather unabashedly, like he just can’t help himself. he looks down again—shy shy shy—a hint of pink dusting his ears, a small smile on his lips. “that’s good to know.”

 

 

  
  
  
✿

  


that day, jihoon learns that the boy’s name is lai guanlin and he’s from taiwan, here in seoul to study psychology. that his favorite colors are primary colors, his favorite food is korean fried chicken, and his name literally means rainy season. (which is a really funny coincidence.)

 

that day, jihoon also learns that guanlin does have stars in his eyes.

  


✿

  


it doesn’t stop raining and guanlin—

 

doesn’t.

 

stop coming.

  
  


✿

  
  


jihoon realizes that, after weeks of small talks turned into deep conversations, he doesn’t really mind.

 

in fact—

 

staring awe-struck as the younger boy tilts his head back and laughs, a sound so sweet and disarming that jihoon just aches aches aches

 

—he doesn’t think he wants guanlin to stop coming.

  
  


✿

  
  


(“what do you think about magic, hyung?”

 

“it’s everywhere.”

 

“like the plants?”

 

“and the weather.”

 

“people. some people are magic, hyung—even if they don’t have the abilities. you don’t have to know magic in order to be magical.”

 

“well, i think you’re magic, guanlin.”

 

“i think you’re magic, too, hyung.”)

  


✿

  


_i think it’s magic_ , jihoon wants to say, _that we got to meet each other._

  


✿

 

 

  
“you’re smiling a lot these days,” minhyun observes one day, as they prepare to open to the store. “is it because of that boy? guanlin, right?”

 

“no,” jihoon replies, reaching out to flip the sign open. he’s aware that he’s grinning, but he doesn’t want to give his boss the indulgence by telling him that _yes, i’m actually smiling because of lai guanlin. i think about him a lot, think about his adorable gummy smile and the stars in his eyes. the way he literally glows when he talks about something that he likes._ _he talks about them as if they’re his world, hyung. especially magic—he talks about it like it’s more than real. he made me believe that magic isn’t just convenience, but it’s also the lifeline of most people. and he—he’s like the moon and i’m the tides, inexplicably drawn to his light. it’s not even a long time since we’ve met but i think i’m already completely and utterly fucked._ but he just keeps quiet and instead says, “it’s just a good day. the weather is nice.”

 

“it’s literally raining outside, jihoon.”

 

jihoon stares at him pointedly. the rain crashes against the windowpanes. the world still goes on. “i said what i said.”  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
✿

  
  


you won’t know what the storm can bring to you until it arrives on your doorstep.

  
  


✿

 

the weather forecast did not predict the storm that happens on a particular tuesday night.

 

jihoon is on the apartment alone, binging on his favorite kdrama, when he receives a call from seongwu that they won’t be home for tonight because of their delayed flight due to the unexpected weather. they’re currently in jeju for their anniversary and left jihoon to take care of the tea shop (with the help of park woojin, of course) for a couple of days. it was nice to have the apartment to himself without bickering with seongwu or being scolded by minhyun, but he has to admit that not being with them with a storm brewing outside makes him feel like a child again, who wants to hide inside the closet because no one is there to distract his frightful heart.

 

so, he results into burying himself in layers of blanket, lying down on his stomach, as he busies himself by reading the newest episodes of his favorite manhwa, a hot chamomile tea on his bedside table. he even lit up a lavender-scented candle to help his nerves calm down.

 

it’s the perfect distraction. but as he’s finally finding out the protagonist’s true identity, he hears it: a distant knock, and then someone calling out his name.

 

at first, he thinks that he’s just hallucinating, like hearing voices in the midst of the storm. but then he hears it again, now with more insistent knocking and an urgent call of his name, like there’s someone from downstairs.

 

in this weather?

 

after a moment of debating to himself, he finally abandons the comfort of his bedroom and grabs his beige-colored cardigan from his closet before going downstairs, his steps measured, as if still hesitant to answer the door. and when he finally steps into the shop and sees that someone is indeed outside, his heart beats fast and he immediately scrambles to open the door.

 

“oh my god, guanlin!” he exclaims as he quickly ushers the boy inside. “what are you doing here?”

 

the boy is absolutely drenched from the storm outside, wet strands of dark hair stuck on his face and his clothes dripping with rain water, creating a small puddle on his feet. he looks sad, his eyes downcast on the floor, devoid of the light from the past few weeks that jihoon had seen him. it’s like watching the night sky being shrouded with dark clouds, the promise of the stars no longer seen. he looks like he’s been crying and jihoon’s heart just breaks at the sight.

 

“i’m s-sorry, hyung,” he chokes out, his voice broken. he looks so vulnerable just standing there, soaked from the rain, arms wrapped around himself, like he’s trying stop himself from actually crumbling down. “i-i really didn’t know where else to go.”

 

“hey, it’s okay.” jihoon has stripped off his cardigan and is now wrapping tightly it around guanlin, standing on his tiptoes. he gently brushes the younger boy’s wet bangs from his face, offering him a small smile. “let’s just go upstairs.”

 

✿

  
  


as soon as they arrive at the apartment upstairs, jihoon has coaxed guanlin to take a warm shower. once the boy is finally inside the bathroom, jihoon immediately searches for some comfortable clothes that will hopefully fit the younger. he settles for a white shirt that is a size larger than him and a pair of baggy grey sweatpants before he musters up the courage to knock on the bathroom door.

 

it opens a moment later, just a small sliver for guanlin’s head to peak out just a little, his cheeks flushed from the hot shower.

 

“uh,” jihoon says, rather coherently. and then coughs. “here are some clothes to change to, by the way. you should, uh, give your wet ones to me so that i can put them in the dryer.”

 

“oh, okay.” he accepts them from jihoon, their hands brushing for a fraction of second. that makes jihoon, perhaps, a bit dizzy. “thank you.”

 

after getting himself together and finally putting guanlin’s clothes on the dryer, he goes to the kitchen and starts boiling water with seongwu’s favorite red kettle. he rummages on the herb jars shelf until he finds what he’s looking for.

 

he’s on the process of pouring hot water in a souvenir mug from japan when the bathroom door finally opens and guanlin steps out, looking a bit better that he was earlier. he has a towel on his shoulder and is now drying his hair with it. he looks adorable with an oversized t-shirt and grey sweatpants that are a bit too short on him, padding barefooted on the apartment’s wooden floors. he’s now looking around curiously, at the portraits and paintings on the walls to the amount of plants in every corner of the place. the apartment is a combination of seongwu’s odd taste in decorations and minhyun’s minimalistic touch, which aren’t supposed to be a good match but oh, do they beg to differ.

 

jihoon smiles to himself as he finishes making some lemon balm tea and brings the mugs over to the living area, where he places them on the wooden coffee table.

 

“hey, guanlin-ah,” he calls out, catching the boy’s attention. “come here. let’s have tea.”

 

guanlin blinks at him before shuffling over to the couch where jihoon is seated. he sits on the other side of the furniture, keeping an obvious distance from the older boy. and jihoon just laughs, finding the boy’s awkwardness adorable.

 

“oh, come on. i don’t bite.” jihoon offers him a mug, the one with handpainted skyline that seongwu likes very much, to which the younger accepts. “just make yourself at home, okay? you’re practically family, you know.”

 

guanlin caresses the mug’s handle with his thumb, his eyes focused on the steaming golden liquid. “t-thank you, hyung. it’s just that… i don’t really want to intrude.”

 

“oh, it’s fine, guanlin-ah.” he grabs the blanket slung on the armrest and carefully scoots closer to guanlin to wrap it around the younger’s shoulders. “you’re not intruding, okay? it’s—oh god, your hair’s still soaking wet. here, let me dry it for you.”

 

he directs guanlin to sit on the carpet—although the younger is hesitant at first—in between jihoon’s legs, so that the older can properly dry off his hair. he makes sure to be careful with his movements, but still thorough, as he rubs the towel through the dark raven strands. he lightly pulls a portion of hair just to tease guanlin and the younger laughs, his shoulders shaking a bit.

 

“hyuuung,” guanlin manages a whine despite bursting into a fit of giggles when jihoon repeats the action.

 

“you don’t like it?” jihoon asks, now rubbing the towel on the younger boy’s earlobes.

 

“oh, _oh_.” jihoon can practically hear the sigh that comes out from guanlin’s lips. “that actually feels good, hyung. please keep going.”

 

jihoon laughs and obliges, relishing the way the boy relaxes on his touch. he hums a soft tune as he massages guanlin’s temples, the back of his head, and the spot behind his ears. the storm outside shifts to an even rainfall, perfectly in sync with the steady beating of jihoon’s heart. he feels comfortable, with guanlin’s solid presence in a world full of inconsistent weathers.

 

“you don’t have to be afraid, you know,” he starts softly, careful not to spook the other boy. “you can always tell me everything—even the things that bother you.”

 

a pause, and then a sigh. “i know that, hyung. but i really don’t want to burden you.”

 

once, jihoon had said the exact same words when seongwu had asked him to move in with him to the apartment that he shared with his husband. it was a painful time for jihoon; he had nowhere else to go, not after his parents had practically disowned him for wanting to chase his own dream. for trying to take a path that he wants for himself. what he says to guanlin are the words that seongwu had replied to him that time:

 

“you can’t always carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, guanlin-ah.”

 

“that’s true, i guess.” he sees the younger fiddling with the rim of his mug in a thoughtful manner. “i, uh. i’m sorry about the storm, hyung.”

 

that causes jihoon to chuckle. “why are apologizing about the weather? it’s not something that you can control unless—”

  
  
oh.

 

_oh._

 

“well.” guanlin laughs nervously. “it’s supposed to be something that i can control, but i realized that there are really some things that just can’t be helped.”

 

“like the weather,” jihoon offers, just to lighten the mood.

 

when guanlin smiles, it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “yeah, that. and sadness.”

 

there’s silence. the only sound that can be heard is the pitter-patters of raindrops outside.

 

jihoon untangles himself from his position on the couch and sinks down on the floor beside guanlin, close enough for their shoulders and knees to touch, just enough for guanlin to know that he’s there, that he’s listening, that he’s not alone. jihoon offers him a smile, just to let him know that it’s okay to talk.

 

“do you know why i keep coming to the tea shop, hyung?” guanlin asks and jihoon shakes his head. “well, it’s because it feels closer to home, you know. the earl grey tea that i always order reminds me of the one that my mom used to make. and the place itself, hyung. it’s a reminiscent of our house—with all the mismatched furniture and the plants. my mom has this garden on our backyard full of flowers and so much greenery that i can’t even name. my mom really loves gardening, said that it makes her heart beat.

 

hyung. do you know about the language of flowers?” and when jihoon replies with a quiet no, he continues, “well, it’s when every flowers have their own meanings. when i was younger, my mom used to point at the flowers and tell me their meanings. like pink carnations mean: _i’ll never forget you_ and red tulips: _believe that i love you_. she became the reason why i love flowers so much.”

 

jihoon is then reminded of their first meeting, when guanlin asked if the purple lilacs were real with this shine in his eyes, and he smiles, a little bit fond of the younger boy’s love for something so beautiful.

 

“and i just…” guanlin pulls his knees close to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs. he looks much younger like this, so small and too precious. and jihoon just wants to do everything to protect him, protect him from the world that is just too mean to this wonderful boy. “i miss her so much.”

 

“and i know that i’m not supposed to feel this way because—” he takes in a deep, shallow breath, like he’s stopping himself from sounding too broken. “because… i’m the one that left her.”

 

a thunder rumbles outside.

 

“i left her, hyung,” guanlin continues, his voice starting to sound strangled. heavy raindrops begin to pour fast against the windowpanes. “i left her when i knew that she needed me the most. we only had each other because we lost dad and _jiejie_ in a car crash. and i should’ve been there for her, hyung. we should’ve been there for each other, but then i got scared and flew over here—distances away from her, just because i couldn’t handle the responsibility of taking care of her.”

 

another thunder. an even stronger downpour.

 

“but despite that, she—” he wets his lips that are starting to dry. “she still respected my decision, still sends me money, still keeps in contact with me. she always sends me emails, telling me about her day and always— _always_ —asking me to take care of myself, like—like… i never did anything bad. like i didn’t run away.”

 

the lightning that strikes outside startles jihoon, but he only presses himself closer to the younger boy, cautiously putting his head on his shoulder as he traces unmapped constellations on the guanlin’s arm. maybe there can be so much warmth just as there is sadness in a person.

 

“and today,” guanlin starts with a shaky breath. “today is my dad and _jiejie’s_ death anniversary. and i-i’m supposed to be there by her side, hyung. because i’m not the only one who’s mourning over the loss of a family. we’re both suffering and i just left her alone with no one there to hold her. i’m a horrible person.”

 

“you’re not a horrible person, guanlin-ah,” jihoon whispers urgently, straightening himself so that he can look at the younger boy’s face.

 

“but i am, hyung.”

 

“you know… you shouldn’t blame yourself for being scared,” jihoon says, smiling as he absentmindedly reaches out to play with hair on guanlin’s nape. it’s quite an intimate gesture, even for jihoon himself, but it just felt right at the moment. “because it’s okay to be scared. i know that and your mom knows that, too. that’s why she’s not mad at you, that she still keeps in contact. she just wants to know if you’re okay, guanlin. if you’re eating well and doing fine on your own. she’s not angry, i assure you. but she’s worried.”

 

guanlin doesn’t say anything, doesn’t meet jihoon’s eyes, probably considering jihoon’s words.

 

“so, don’t say that you’re a horrible person ever again,” jihoon continues, “or i’m never gonna give you any more towel rubs.”

 

when guanlin turns to look at him, he’s grinning with his dimples in sight and jihoon is just so, so endeared. “is that a threat?”

 

“yeah,” jihoon replies, trying to muster a frown, “and i’m pretty serious about it.”

 

“it’s a deal, then.”

 

they both laugh and it just feels good. it always feels easy with guanlin. natural. familiar.

 

“you know what?” jihoon shifts into a cross-legged position, his whole body turning towards guanlin. “let’s make another deal, guanlin-ah.”

 

guanlin nods. “okay.”

 

“i’ll treat you to lunch, only and only if,” jihoon starts, carefully watching guanlin’s expression, “you’d email your mom.”

 

guanlin looks at him with a pained expression. “hyung.”

 

“okay. it doesn’t have to be a deal but.” jihoon nibbles on his lower lip as he pauses for awhile. “you trust me, right?”

 

“yeah,” guanlin says and—

 

that just means a lot of things, but mostly just means: everything.

 

“so, trust me on this.” jihoon reaches out to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, a smile on his face. “send her an email. it doesn’t have to be long. just tell her you’re doing fine and it’ll be more than enough. okay?” guanlin nods a tiny nod, and jihoon beams. “good. just wait here and i’ll get my laptop.”

 

jihoon comes back to the living room a moment after fetching up his laptop which is an ancient thing that he still puts up with because he’s still broke and it’s still pretty much working, so. he places it on the coffee table in front of guanlin and the younger just looks at the old thing with wide eyes, as if being near it terrifies him.

 

“now, just do your thing while i’ll cook some ramen,” jihoon says. “and the password’s jigglypuff1999. all in lowcaps. don’t ask why.”

 

the laugh that comes from guanlin makes jihoon’s heart flutter.

  


✿

  


(jihoon checks on guanlin every minute or so as he prepares some ramen. he has finished cooking and the boy is still looking at the screen absently, his fingers hovering the keyboard. he types something every once in a while before he shakes his head and furiously presses backspace.

 

the older boy lets out a sigh and takes a bowl of ramen from the counter, bringing it over to the living room to put it beside his laptop on the coffee table.

 

guanlin looks up and jihoon gives him a smile, reaching over to ruffle his hair that is now dry and so, so soft. “hey, don’t stress it,” jihoon says. “it’s not an essay. just write freely. no one is going to judge you or anything.”

 

“yeah,” guanlin agrees, gives a tentative smile. “thanks, hyung.”

 

“no problem,” jihoon says and pats him on the cheek once. “eat your ramen, okay? before it gets cold.”

 

jihoon eats his own noodles on the counter, silently watching the younger finally starts on his email, eyes set with determination.)

  


✿

  
  


it’s ten minutes past midnight when guanlin finally finishes his email. the storm outside has gradually calmed down, a slow but certain transition from an angry downpour that fades into a light rainfall. jihoon finds himself smiling as he watches the scene outside, his chest filled with warmth.

 

“i think i’m done, hyung,” guanlin states, and jihoon turns to find him beaming at him, his eyes forming into crescents, his gummy smile wide. the warmth that blooms beneath his ribcage grows grows grows. “you can read it if you want.”

 

“nah, that stuff is private.” he averts his gaze from the window and moves to sit beside guanlin. “besides, i trust that you’ve done it well.”

 

“well, uh.” a pretty shade of pink dusts his cheeks and jihoon—well, jihoon is just so fond. “i wouldn’t have done it without you, hyung. so, thank you.”

 

the sincerity in his words, in his eyes, makes jihoon smile. the feeling of warmth in his chest is a wildfire that just burns stronger, the flames spreading all over him, so pervasive that he’s afraid that he’s going to combust at any second and guanlin will be there to witness it, will be there to see how he makes jihoon feel.

 

and jihoon just wants to lay down all his armor, wants to tell him—

 

✿

  


this—

 

(blood rushing, bones igniting, heart bursting in flames)

 

—is how you make me feel.

  


✿

  
  


the rain slows to a stop, but jihoon’s heart doesn’t. it’s a treacherous thing, it really is. but it’s still his, still attached to him, beating so fast for a boy who can conjure up storms and drizzles, but still smiles with the radiance of the sun.

 

it’s still his and he doesn’t know how to control it. doesn’t even attempt to stop, just indulges himself (just for this moment) as he reaches out for guanlin’s hand—

 

“follow me.”

 

—and leads him somewhere.

  


✿

  
  


somewhere is here:

 

a garden on the rooftop, just above seongwu and minhyun’s apartment. it looks just like your ordinary garden with plants here and there and some occasional flowers hanging from a post or sitting on a flowerbed. but of course it’s nowhere near normal since everything is grown by magic, created to withstand even the harshest of weathers. despite the storm just a few hours ago, the garden still stands in all its glory, completely unharmed and blooming vibrantly even in darkness. but when jihoon reaches out to flick a lightswitch, everything becomes alive as lights flicker one by one, surrounding them in a warm brightness.

 

guanlin looks around in awe, his eyes shining brighter than all the lights combined, and jihoon lets the fire inside him burn once more as he stares at the younger boy, observing the way the celestial glow illuminates his features. he looks ethereal like this, so unreal, like he’s not supposed to be here walking on earth because he belongs somewhere up there—with the sun, the moon, and the stars.

 

“hyung!” guanlin’s voice pulls him out of his reverie. he’s practically skipping as he regards the flowers one by one. “this is amazing! we also have these flowers at home.”

 

“oh, yeah?” he knows that he’s smiling, feeling so giddy, as he moves to stand beside guanlin. “would you mind telling me more about the language of flowers, then?”

 

the younger boy almost looks shy, chuckling nervously as he lightly plays with his earlobe. “well, um. these flowers... they’re called sweet peas and they can mean goodbye, but i prefer them as: _you’ll always be a wonderful memory_ . forget-me-nots literally mean: _don’t forget me_ , but they can also mean true love. primrose means: _i can’t live without you._ and oh!” he gently touches the five-petaled, magenta flower with dark purple veins that travel from the center and smiles. “these are petunias and they mean: _your presence soothes me_. and i think—i think they remind me of you, hyung.”

 

petunia flowers. _your presence soothes me._

 

“oh?” jihoon can feel his cheeks heat up and he lowers his head to hopefully hide his blush. “and why is that?”

 

“well, it’s because, um.” jihoon smiles, almost chuckles, when he sees that he’s not the only one whose face is red. guanlin’s hands are splayed in front of him, his gaze staring down at them like they hold the answers of the universe. “you just… make me feel safe. like, i can be vulnerable but still feel like i could conquer the world.”

 

and jihoon is suddenly breathless.

 

“it’s—ahhh.” guanlin’s ears are pink and he’s looking everywhere, but at jihoon. he looks like he’s having an emotional breakdown as he laughs nervously, balling his fists to his sides to keep them from shaking. “this is just super embarrassing.”

 

“it’s okay,” jihoon says, pauses to take a deep breath. “you—you make me feel safe, too.”

 

guanlin turns to look at him and—

 

( _the tides pull in response to the moon_ )

 

—meets jihoon’s eyes. they hold contact for a moment—a moment that feels like years—before jihoon averts his gaze, chuckling softly.

 

“come here. i have something to show you.”

 

guanlin follows jihoon as he maneuvers himself toward the corner where a bunch of wooden crates sat, crouching down in front of them. on top are succulents, a variety of them, placed inside hand-painted tin cans. seongwu and minhyun helped him paint those; it was their own little project that turned out to be really therapeutic. they drew cute animals on the pseudo-pots: dogs from seongwu, foxes from minhyun, and bunnies from jihoon. there are also some cats, seals, chicks, and oddly, a poorly-painted face of seongwu (courtesy of minhyun, probably). guanlin laughs when he spots that one.

 

“these are really pretty,” guanlin comments, moving to crouch beside jihoon.

 

“thank you,” jihoon says, smiling shyly as he caresses the one closest to him. “i grew them myself.”

 

“really? that’s amazing, hyung.” guanlin’s voice is tinged with amazement, which makes jihoon feel a little warm.

 

“i guess,” jihoon murmurs, draws his knees closer to his chest. “it’s not easy growing them, but i think it’s all worth it.”

 

“it is,” guanlin agrees quietly.

 

they stay like that for awhile: just staring at the succulents, in a comfortable silence. that’s the thing with guanlin, jihoon thinks. that they don’t really need words for them to find peace each other’s presence.

 

“hey, guanlin-ah,” jihoon says.

 

“hmm?”

 

jihoon reaches out for a succulent, the one that has low rosettes of greenish ivory leaves with pink tips, potted in a chick-painted tin can, and offers it to guanlin.

 

“i want you to have this,” jihoon says.

 

“hyung,” guanlin breathes, eyes wide. “you don’t have to.”

 

“i want to,” jihoon insists. he really does. “it’s called moonglow and i don’t know the meaning behind it, but i think it’s really pretty. especially when it’s spring and it grows little yellow flowers. i don’t know what to name it, though. so, you choose.”

 

“milk? chocolate?” guanlin suggests, uncertain.

 

“milk chocolate,” jihoon decides, smiling. “and she—he—um, _they—_ because i don’t wanna assume the gender—are gonna be your company from now on. i know it gets lonely sometimes, so i want you to have them.”

 

guanlin laughs as he accepts it, the prettiest shade of rose blooming on his cheeks. “thank you, hyung. i promise to take care of them.”

  


✿

  


they spend the rest of the night sharing stories from their childhood, staring up at the stars as they lay down on the tent that they had set up earlier. they removed the cover on top, so that they can trace constellations with their fingertips, reaching their hands out to the sky as though they long to be with the moon.

 

just breathing each other’s presence before—

 

(drifting, drifting, drifting)

 

—sleep finally claims them.

  


✿

  


waking up has never been like this—

 

“hyung, are you awake?”

 

that the moment jihoon opens his eyes, it’s guanlin that he first sees, his raven hair ruffled from sleep, his eyes squinting a bit as he adjusts to the brightness of the sun, his cheeks puffed from where it’s pressed on jihoon’s arm, and his lips pouting a little as he murmurs words on his skin in his lilted, sonorous voice that reminds him of riptides.

 

and thinks that maybe… he doesn’t really mind more mornings like this.

  


✿

 

falling has never been like this—

 

sinking, not quite drowning, in an ocean of vast unknown. down, down, down, he goes, the waves pulling him in like he has no gravity and the water that surrounds him is the blackhole.

 

inevitable, right from the start.

  
  


✿

  
  


the inevitability doesn’t stop as time bleeds in the seasons that pass.

 

seongwu and minhyun open up a flower shop beside _spring breeze_ (about time, really) and hires guanlin as a part-time staff. he keeps teaching jihoon about the language of flowers whenever jihoon visits him during his breaks and he gets to learn how to make tea (boba, specifically, now that he has developed a particular addiction to it) in return. he likes spending time with the younger like this, just sharing knowledge, and finding comfort in each other’s presence.

 

guanlin now keeps in contact with his mom, always messaging her and even calling her when he has time to spare. there was this one time when he was in the middle of a video call and jihoon came in. he had introduced the elder to his mom and now they’re practically best friends. she even invited him to come to taipei with guanlin during the holidays, which came as a surprise at first, but after a lot of convincing, he had agreed to go. he’s pretty much looking forward to it, but he’s not gonna tell guanlin that.

 

jihoon has continued saving up for college (with the help of his bosses, bless them for their kindness). seongwu had helped him look for schools and minhyun with his applications. it’s exciting, but at the same time nerve-wracking, knowing that he has his own insecurities, his own doubts of ever passing to these amazing universities. but they tell him otherwise, his bosses who became his family. _you’re gonna make it, jihoon-ah_ , minhyun would always say, and seongwu would add, _we’re always here for you._ guanlin even came during one of jihoon’s shifts just to give him an iris flower  just to tell him: _i have faith in you._ and jihoon knew that he was gone.

 

inevitability is inevitable when it comes to lai guanlin.

 

✿

  


**_flower boy_ **❀

_hyuuuuuuung_

_i have an announcement to make!!_

 

_yeah?_

_what is it?_

 

 **_flower boy_ **❀

[image attached]

 

_oh my god_

_is that???_

 

 **_flower boy_ **❀

_yup!!!_

_milk chocolate just had a baby!!!!!!_

_we’re gonna be grandparents hyung!!_

  
  


✿

  


_(hey, google? how do you protect one (1) boy?_

 

_hey, google? what does it take to be a grandparent?_

 

_hey, google? fuck, i can’t stop myself from smiling._

 

_hey, google? aaaaaaaah why is he so adorable?_

 

_hey, google? i think—i think i’m in love._

 

_hey, google? …. what should i do?)_

  


✿

  


_hey, guanlin-ah?_

 

 **_flower boy_ **❀

_yes, hyung?_

 

_i think love you._

[failed to send message]

_i don’t think i’m ready to be a grandparent._

 

 **_flower boy_ **❀

_oh_

_don’t worry, hyung!!_

_i’m here!_

_we’re in this together :D_

 

_i’m glad :)_

 

✿

  


sometimes, the universe can be kind.

  


✿

  


he gets accepted on his first choice of school. his two bosses are so excited (seemed to be happier than him, really) that they closed both of their stores earlier than usual so that they could celebrate all night. they managed to coax guanlin into coming with them for dinner in this grill restaurant where they order lots and lots of samgyeopsal.

 

“order away, young one!” seongwu says in a raised voice, seemingly far from sober. they’re in this place for only fifteen minutes and this hyung has already finished a glass of beer. “you worked hard. you earned it!”

 

“let’s try to empty his wallet by ordering the most expensive food in this restaurant,” guanlin whispers to him, already reaching out for the laminated menu.

 

“too bad there’s no lobster,” jihoon says, trying to hide a smile.

 

they order another five sets of pork belly, a whole chicken, and two plates of jajjangmyeon, though. so, all is good.

 

when all their food are about to wipe clean and their stomachs are full, seongwu has announced that he has something to give to jihoon. it takes moments of fumbling on his seat and muttering to himself before he finally extracts a small, rectangular box in his coat pocket and gives it to jihoon with the most stupid grin on his face. turns out, they’re a bunch of coupons for various of chicken places in seoul and it makes jihoon squeal in delight because yeah, this is what he really wants. minhyun gives him a hot pink knitted sweater that he likes too much that he ends up wearing it right away despite the warm air inside the restaurant. seongwu comments that he looks ridiculous in it and takes a photo.

 

which leaves—

 

“ah, hyung,” guanlin says, smiling to him as though he’s hiding a secret. “i’ll just give my present to you after.”

 

“ooooooh,” seongwu says.

 

“interesting,” minhyun says.

 

“shut up,” jihoon says.

  


✿

  


it’s the first time jihoon visits guanlin’s apartment—a small space of which everything is interwoven. there are no partitions between the living room, kitchen, and bedroom, but he makes it work. although, it looks like a storm has passed by.

 

“sorry it’s a mess,” guanlin says, sounding sincerely apologetic, as he removes a sock that has somehow made its way to the coat stand. “i didn’t get to clean up earlier.”

 

“it’s okay. i think my room is messier.” jihoon moves to stand in front of a framed portrait of guanlin’s family on a small bookshelf that serves as a divider between his bed and the living room. “you’re so tiny here.”

 

“that was about ten years ago,” guanlin tells him. “it was snowing and the garden was covered in so much white that it looked like a winter wonderland. it was really beautiful and my mom knew that we just had to take a family photo. that’s my dad hugging me from behind and that’s my sister beside the really ugly snowman that she made herself. she made me call it lai guanlin—by force, of course. and my dad would just laugh because he somehow found it really amusing when my i obeyed _jiejie_ without any hesitations.” he laughs at the memory, his eyes shining with fondness. “god, i miss them so much.”

 

the wind picks up outside and pretty soon, the first sets of raindrops begin to patter against the windows.

 

“i’m sure they miss you, too,” jihoon says, smiling.

 

“i know, hyung.” guanlin chuckles. “if they were here, though, they’d probably really like you.”

 

“oh, really? is it because i’m irresistible?” jihoon teases.

 

“and really kind, smart, and funny. and—” jihoon’s breath hitches as guanlin flushes. “—really pretty, too.”

 

jihoon blinks at him. “oh.”

 

“i said what i said, okay? just please—” guanlin blushes a deeper red, turning his back around jihoon. probably to hide how flustered he is. “don’t tease me.”

 

“i-i wont,” jihoon promises. guanlin said that he’s pretty and he’s not so sure if he’ll be able to sleep well because of that tonight.

 

guanlin sits on the bed facing the window, his hands picking up for something, and jihoon takes a seat beside him. he takes a look of the thing that the younger is holding and beams.

 

“milk chocolate’s babies!” jihoon exclaims, leaning closer to the plant. a stem has bloomed from its center, small yellow flowers sprouting upwards like tiny suns. “hello there! it’s grandpa jihoon.”

 

“they’re cute, right?” guanlin grins, offering the succulent to jihoon. “our child did a good job.”

 

_our child._

 

oh, god.

 

“they did,” jihoon agrees, cradling the pot in his arms. he feels so warm and a little bit more in love. “is this what you’re going to give me? because it’s honestly the best, guanlin-ah. i’m really happy.”

 

“um, not really,” guanlin says, almost quietly. he fidgets on the loose thread of his bedsheet and nibbles on his lower lip thoughtfully. “it’s rather this one.”

 

guanlin turns around his bed and reaches out for something that’s been laid out on his pillow. when he faces jihoon, he offers him a beautiful bouquet, made up of tiny purple flowers bunched up in simple white sheer ribbon.

 

jihoon gently accepts them. “oh. they’re…”

 

“yeah, hyung,” says guanlin, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “they’re lilacs and i grew them myself. congratulations again for being accepted, hyung. you really deserve it.”

 

“thank you so much, guanlin-ah. they’re really pretty.” jihoon brings the flower close to his face, hiding the smile that made its way to his face. they even smell nice, too. “what do they mean in the language of flowers?”

 

“oh, um.” guanlin looks down at his lap and scratches the shell of his ear, a nervous habit. “lilacs can mean a lot of things. the white ones mean youthful innocence, blue means happiness and tranquility, magenta is passionate love. and purple—well, purple has two meanings: one is spirituality and the other, the one that i want to say, is—”

 

jihoon holds his breath like he’s suddenly underwater.

 

“—first emotions of love,” guanlin finishes, finally meeting jihoon’s gaze. he smiles a beautiful dimpled smile, where his eyes shine bright bright bright. “hyung. i just want to tell you that…. i—i’m glad that you’re my first love.”

 

upon their first meeting, guanlin had unwillingly planted a seed inside of jihoon, in that space beneath his ribcage, cradled in the deep crevice of his ever-beating heart. and it just grows grows grows as the seasons pass, becoming flowers that just spread everywhere, all bright and beautiful, threatening to break outside of his chest like an unspoken confession, as if to say, _you make me bloom._

 

and right now, in this moment, he lets them spill the secrets of his heart.

 

he takes a deep breath, smiles, and finally says—

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

  
  
  
  
✿  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

 

 

**[+1]**

 

if jihoon could only hear what the lilacs had whispered to him that night, this is what they would say:

 

_a boy has brought us to life with his delicate fingers, warm and tender despite his heart raging with the most vicious of storms. he has the sun in his smile and stars in his eyes when he’s reminded of you—you, who makes his heart beat. you, who taught him many things but mostly: love._

 

_you, who he has come to know as home._

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> ... the ending is up to you, guys ;)   
>  if you made it until here, i just want to say thank you so much for reading it. it really means so much to me <3 and um. y'all know this isn't the end, right? that just because it's 2019 now doesn't mean that i'll stop. i will still write fics for as long as you want me to :D it's tough, but i made really happy memories here and i don't want to let them go any sooner. wanna one has always been a big part of my life and they were the reason why i started writing fanfics again, even if it scared me at first. but you made it all worth it; the people i've met bcs of w1 are the most amazing individuals who're always full of warmth, like the sun that made me bloom. so, thank you. i guess i will all see you soon <33
> 
> let's be friends!! you can leave a message on my [cc](https://curiouscat.me/jaepeels) or talk to me on [tumblr](http://jaepeels.tumblr.com)!! my twt has been locked for a moment, so sldjsldjsld
> 
> anyways, tysm and i love you all <333 


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